


Wir treiben Richtung Ewigkeit

by StormXPadme



Series: Join me in death [4]
Category: Elisabeth - Levay/Kunze
Genre: F/M, First Time, Groping, Oral Sex, Piano Sex, Sophie Friederike von Österreich, Sophie is Death's and Elisabeth's child, more tags to follow as the story grows, raised by him in the underworld, sophie friederike of austria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-07 10:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19083517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormXPadme/pseuds/StormXPadme
Summary: Elisabeth starts exploring the grounds of her new kingdom. Many feels and and a lot of sex ensue.





	1. Dein Genie die Macht, Wissen deine Leidenschaft

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no native, please be patient with mistakes. Will gladly correct whatever error you tell me. This will be the first multi-chapter entry in this series, and it should have a little more plot than the previous entries, but there's still lot of smut with some feels thrown in between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFwM3Cb9ypI  
> Chapter title inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhPZQZrdifQ

**_“A_** ttention, please, the Empress is awake.”

 

“I love you too, kid.” Elisabeth answered Sophie’s good-natured jab with a dramatic roll of her eyes but didn’t stop on her way into the huge communal living room, only one of the many in this place she hadn’t been to so far.

After her usual uninspired evening-breakfast – dying and being reborn the so-called co-leader of the underworld had changed many things, but definitely not her appetite – she’d heard noise and laughter from the end of the hall and gotten curious. So at least for once her steps had not lead her to her favorite place – so far – in her new home to catch up on the thousands of books being stored there. Plenty of time for that left in her little private eternity that had only just begun. After her long estranged daughter and her had at least started to form a first bond a few days ago, continuing to pursue that careful relationship was time just as well spent.

And with two of the two dozen currently employed death-angels being present in the room, at least there should be no awkward silence. While her lover still hadn’t bothered to officially introduce any of them, after that not so little fallout he’d had with his superiors the week before, the angels greeted and treated Elisabeth with a lot more attention and respect in their mannerism when they happened to run into each other on the floors. That she wasn’t fainting or running at the sight of blood or violence had left the right impression with Death’s servants and even more importantly, with her daughter. It would have been foolish not to try and build on that.

And starting a conversation tonight apparently wouldn’t be much of a problem. The table was littered with a variety of bottles, some of them suspiciously empty looking. There was a running joke going on around these grounds that you could only stand working for Death for so long before you started intimate relationships with hard alcohol. Apparently there was more to that than Elisabeth had realized. Shrugging, she reached for one of the empty glasses and poured herself a double shot of some really old and expensive looking whiskey. Might as well, the night wouldn’t get much more stimulating than that.

 

“Still no word?” It was Uriel who addressed her first, when she had finally decided for a place to sit, with a few of those really comfortable armchairs between Sophie and her, so her daughter wouldn’t have to talk to her if she didn’t feel like it, but definitely couldn’t ignore her if she didn’t want to crank her head constantly.

 

“The master is still in Russia, from all I can tell.” She shifted her glass lightly, the pyramidal ice cubes bumping into each other in a slow clinking dance. It was easier than returning those looks now resting on her, some curious, some confused about the new leader of the kingdom joining the lower servants in their evening entertainment. “The latest riots are producing a lot of work. It might be a while before he’s back.” Much as she tried, the casual tone left her voice at the last words and she had to drown the sudden thickness of worry with a long swig from her glass. And another one right after, just for good measure.

“What?” When she heard Sophie whistle, impressed, saw her stare at her with those huge brown eyes that was the most obvious feature they shared, a sarcastic smile spread on her lips that usually Sophie liked to throw at her. “How do you think I survived 40 years in the Hofburg?”

 

That earned her a chuckle from Uriel and from the other, raven-haired angel crouched up there on the backrest of the sofa, a nearly empty bottle of absinthe cradled in his elbow. She couldn’t tell his name but she thought to remember that he’d arrived here only days before her and now obviously was being tutored by one of Death’s most loyal, long-living servants, and also by no other than her daughter.

 

It made her proud in a way probably only a queen of the underworld could appreciate her offspring being a teacher of taking and collecting souls, but still it was hard to shake the feeling that she just didn’t belong in this room. Not yet, not while she was a stranger to the ways, the habits, the history, fate and purpose of this very world her lover had brought her into to keep her by his side.

She suddenly missed him so much, it was like a stab to the heart with just the smallest of blades … a feeling she had experienced recently enough to remember. It didn’t help, knowing exactly what had happened last time he’d been gone for so long. His explanation that he needed to make up for more than one lost hour that he’d spent by her side in the last few decades, if he didn’t want to get on the bad side of his superiors again, didn’t help much.

Elisabeth wasn’t used to actually _miss_ people in her life that she loved.

It took her a moment to realize that Sophie had asked her something. That hadn’t happened often enough so far to know the sound. Fortunately, her mind hadn’t zoned out enough to not remember what the hell those words had been. That her daughter seemed to be interested in how she killed time when she was alone, might actually be a good sign. “Reading. I wasn’t aware, there were that many books even existing.” The honest excitement in her voice seemed to make her opposite happy in a way she couldn’t quite place, and she had to wonder, if her daughter had had a hand in stocking up that attic with so many different genres and authors.

 

“No wonder you look like a bedsheet if you never get out from up there”, Sophie remarked, charming as ever. “This is not the Hofburg, you know. You can walk these grounds without vultures and thieves at your back at every corner. Do me a favor and do some exploring? Dad would very much approve of that”, she quickly added when not only Elisabeth but also her two partners stared at her like she’d just grown a beak to match the wings on her back.

 

“I’m afraid I’ll need a map for that.” Elisabeth knocked back the rest of her drink and leaned her head against the backrest as the very welcome, comfortable heavy buzz set in her limbs. While it made it easier to find words, she better not got used to needing booze before talking to her own daughter. Or she would soon be spending every single night in here, along with these people who could only deal with their own existence of eternal punishment by drinking the hours away.

 

“Why don’t you show your mother around, Soph?” Uriel ignored Sophie’s murderous glance his way, the way probably only someone could who’d spent the last 300 years or so working for the crankiest, sassiest lord of the underworld any realm had ever seen. Propping his legs over the armrest of his chair, he opened another bottle of something fizzy, bitter smelling that seemed to come from England by the looks of the label. “With the master back out in the field, things are slowing down right now. You haven’t had a break in three years and four months anyway. I’m sure, you two will have lots of fun together.”

 

“And I’m sure that if I tell Dad how closely you keep tabs on my work schedule, _you’ll_ spend the next three years cleaning out the dungeons”, Sophie answered dryly.

“Now that we settled that … Come on, _your highness_. You’re not a puppy, you never needed anyone to hold your hand. You’re supposed to be the queen of these lands someday. Stop hiding in your bedroom.” She had another witty comment about in whose bedroom Elisabeth should stop hiding in as well on her tongue, it was obvious, but a not so gentle kick against her shin from the angel she’d just threatened made her shut up.

 

“I’ve been dead for less than a month, kid. Give me a while to get used to it.” But the small dart into her ambition had helped, Elisabeth was pretty sure she’d be at least mapping out the floors where Death’s and her chambers were located later this evening … if she could still stand on her feet then, that was. This was some damn fine whiskey indeed, and the second glass always tasted so much better.

For a while they kept silent over their drinks, and soon enough they weren’t alone anymore, three more of the angels joining them without much of a greeting or introduction. It wasn’t often that the mood on these grounds allowed for such relaxed evenings, apparently.

Tiredness creeping into her bones, Elisabeth indeed started some exploring to do, at least at a small scale. When she tried to catch Sophie’s slightly unfocussed, wine-hazed sight next time, in vain, her eyes fell on the painting on the wall behind her daughter’s chair, and a hurtful clench stopped her heart for a moment.

 

It was a picture of Rudolf, out riding with no other than the girl he’d chosen to end his life with. From the color of his too big autumn jacket down to the star shaped blaze of his favorite mare, the artwork carried every detail of an artist who had spent half their life at court to watch, in silence and darkness … and not of someone mainly being busy driving the Empress into depression and suicide just to be with her.

Glancing around, following a sudden instinct, she found her daughter’s handwriting everywhere in the perfectly round room, starting with the furniture in the same grounded, dark colors of berries and night flowers that also dominated Sophie’s wardrobe, or the statue of a nightingale that spread her thin brass wings right there over the fireplace. The same wings that Sophie had chosen to carry on her back not too long ago, a homage to her father in her very own style, less pointed and edgy but with a half transparent and most resistant texture.

 

There were a thousand questions Elisabeth wanted to ask her child, still, but she was very aware that they’d already made another unexpected big step tonight, and she didn’t want to challenge her luck. They had time. So she limited her curiosity to the obvious for now, and to subjects that wouldn’t hurt either of them. “This is yours?”

 

“One of the first rooms I designed, yes. If you think, the castle is dark and boring, you should have seen it 40 years ago.” Wrinkling her small nose – another gesture Elisabeth knew very well from her mirror – Sophie gestured around and hid her quickly growing blush behind her newly filled glass. “I’ve never had much time or patience for decorating, but I wanted at least a few places that didn’t feel like they’re occupied by the dead only. And since I’m the only one with any sense of style in this building, I took matters in my own hands.” This time she was quick enough to pull away from the threat of another bruise on her shin. A most adorable, embarrassed chuckle on her lips, she mimicked Uriel’s slightly inappropriate position, one high-heeled ankle propped up on the edge of the backrest so the hem of her dark red skirt started to wander, revealing the same shapely strong legs her father had.

 

Elisabeth drowned whatever reprimand she had no right to make in another sip of whiskey, though she was pretty sure, Sophie did not have even the slightest idea of the effect she especially had on her so much older workmate. Another time, maybe. “I did not take you for a craftsman, to be honest.”

 

That earned her a snicker from more than one corner of the room. “You need to start reading the right books, your highness.” Sophie tilted her head a little, her eyes fixed on Elisabeth’s glass … which was filled to the brim in seconds once more, the bottle before her finally empty now. “We’re architects of the mind. That’s what this whole place is about. An ability essential to guide the dying into the afterlife. I am pretty sure it wasn’t originally meant for this kind of use, but …” She vaguely gestured around once more, this time it looked erratic. A night for accelerated drinking training, it seemed. “We don’t exactly do things by the book around here.”

 

“Never would have guessed.” Two glasses in on a nearly empty stomach, Elisabeth felt herself get bored of words quicker than usual. Maybe taking another short nap wasn’t a bad idea. Once her partner would be back from his current ferry run, there probably wouldn’t be much sleep for nights to come …

When she turned her head to glance at the door, she realized, those good intentions had come too late.

 

“Dad!” Sophie spotted the figure emerging from the shadows of the hall at the very same moment and was up and gone before Elisabeth had even put her glass down. Elisabeth didn’t miss the small, respectful bow she showed to the master of the realm before she flung herself in his arms, with a smile of happiness and relief that left her round face shining like the sun. Though no one had dared to mentioned it, in a way they had all been uneasy about his absence after what had happened so shortly ago.

 

But this time, things seemed to be as much in order as it could be after days of collecting souls. He just looked tired, more so than Elisabeth could remember it from those nights he’d left her for work before … before the elders had made the human side of his demigod body a good deal more vulnerable than it had been before, and the fine lines around his eyes betrayed it. But the kiss on Sophie’s cheek was tender and loving as ever, his hands calm and steady when he gently stepped out of her embrace, his arm still around her small waist while he looked around the room, caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“I’m gone for a week and you start throwing parties, my love?” Until Elisabeth had finally sorted herself out and gotten up on slightly unsteady legs, he apparently had decided that the world wasn’t ending just yet because of a little booze and fun and pulled her close for an unashamed passionate kiss.

 

A deep blush on her cheek, Elisabeth forced herself to pull back when the chuckles and clearing of throats all around really couldn’t be ignored anymore. “Well, we would have waited for you, but there wasn’t exactly a carrier pigeon announcing your return.”

 

“I shall train Hugin and Munnin for your kind of needs then.” It was as far as he went in terms of humor when they were not alone, though Elisabeth wouldn’t actually put it behind him to train his pet ravens for such a mundane use if he thought it would make her happy.

 

For now she was way too glad to have him back to complain about a few days of silence anyway. She had never actually seen him spend time with his servants unless it was for ordering them around, so with half a thought she was already on her way out of the room to accompany him to their chambers. When his arm around her shoulders guided her to the sofa by the fireside instead, she couldn’t hide her confusion.

 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. By all means.” He slowly raised one hand, palm up, once they’d gotten comfortable, his arm still keeping her close to him, the conversation and quiet giggling around long died down. But it was very obvious he wasn’t used to attend these casual kind of gatherings, from the stiffness in his back to his unmoving crossed legs or the way he stared into the fire cold enough to put it out if he tried a little harder. Only his caress on Elisabeth’s half naked shoulder was soft as ever. But the resigned pain and bitterness she could see at work behind those beautiful bi-colored eyes left her own heart hurting.

 

Nothing she could do about that now. He wouldn’t talk to her about what he’d seen in front of the others. But maybe she could help him feel a little more at ease in a company that wasn’t used to his at this time of the day. “What’s your poison, other than the usual, master Death?” She nodded at the collection of bottles in the middle of the huge round table, honestly curious. He didn’t need to eat or drink but he enjoyed his wine from time to time, and that he couldn’t get drunk didn’t mean he’d never tasted hard alcohol before. Having attended more formal meetings in her life than she cared to count, no one knew better than her that it said a lot about a person what they chose to drink.

 

“As long as you are aware that this is a big waste of good liquid … surprise me.” Realizing that now he didn’t only have her attention but the curiosity of the whole room, Death suddenly felt even tenser under her caressing hand on his back, and she knew his voice well enough by now to be able to tell when emotion was forced, not channeled through the soft, bright tone. In this case he wasn’t half as unfazed by the prospect of drinking his employers and his own wife and kid under the table as he pretended to be.

 

“With all due respect, master, this is your castle. Who else is fit to use up its resources?” It seemed, Uriel had only been waiting for this chance. He was already behind the counter where the rest of the alcohol stash was being stored, busy with more ice, some crystal clear soda and a dark brown, heavy liquid with a rich smell that even irritated Elisabeth’s already dulled senses. Gin tonic it was.

 

“To a mission successfully ended?” Elisabeth raised her magically newly filled glass. She could barely hide the grin on her lips as she watched her lover struggle to keep a straight face when he finished his glass just as quickly as she downed hers. “I’m not sure you’re getting the concept of slow enjoyment right, my prince.”

 

“And _you’re_ enjoying this just a little too much, little dove”, he retorted pointedly, but now the game was on, and no one should be able to claim later that Death himself backed out of a challenge, so he didn’t decline when Uriel made sure that his glass was refilled soon enough.

 

By the third they’d lost Sophie who was sound asleep on her chair, with Death’s coat covering up her half naked legs to protect her from a few way too curious sights from their improvised barkeeper. The youngest angel was snoring contently somewhere in the corner as well, and the other three in the background were way too busy watching their boss and his spouse try to out-drink each other to still be game.

By the forth drink, Elisabeth was no longer sure, she’d be able to find her way back into her bedroom once they were done. But she was way too lost in the way, her partner’s blue-green eyes were resting on her, undressing her only with his sights, to care. And with her skin burning from the longing of days of abstinence. It was only when she lost a few drops of whiskey in her suddenly unsteady hand and a hungry pair of lips started to lick them off her low neckline, that she realized, something was off.

“Hey there, master Death, let’s talk about this later, shall we?” Giggling way too high and too shrill, she gently pushed him back, her head nearly as red as Sophie’s corset, and took a quick, embarrassed look around, only to find every single – still awake – person in the room stare at her partner with unbelieving eyes.

 

Only now it dawned on her that she usually only saw him with his greyish skin that flushed when they were deep into their bedside games, only his eyes weren’t narrow and unfocused with lust right now, but with something entirely else. And was that _laughter_ on his lips? No, she definitely wasn’t imagining it, now it was his turn to spill his drink on a once white shirt, and given the circumstances, she should be glad he did instead of intoxicating his completely unprepared body further.

So much for not being able to get drunk.

 

“I think it’s time we take our leave. Enjoy your evening, everyone.”

She had a hard time pulling him to his feet, especially since her own stance was all but steady, but somehow she made it to navigate him out of the room without any further embarrassment. Thanks to a less than discreet hint of Uriel who’d followed them quietly, she even found the right door to enter.

Which, well, was definitely better than having to deal with a sobered up Sophie in a few hours, because they’d somehow ended up in the wrong bed.

Enough mortification for one night.

 

 

 

 

 

Elisabeth wasn’t completely sure, if it was his or her bed when their bodies finally hit a mattress, and she sooon decided, it didn’t really matter. Her lover wasn’t drunk enough to not try and get her out of her dress just yet, also he tasted like alcohol, joy and hunger, and when she ended up on top of him, he was rock hard. After spending way too many useless seconds, trying to open her corset, she just gathered her skirt all the way up to her hips, impatiently, hungered for his touch even more than in their very first night in this realm.

 

By the time she was at least half naked, he’d slipped down on the mattress enough to bury his face between her legs, his heated tongue parting her folds, his clever lips busy sucking on her most sensitive point until she screamed out and whimpered, her hands firmly braced back on his chest to somehow keep herself upright.

 

Suddenly she felt even too impatient to wait for him to get her ready. She’d been ready for nearly a week.

Escaping his groping hands before he could do as much as tease her slick folds, she knelt over his hips, busy with way too many buttons and layers before she could finally hold him in her hand, feeling him just as impatient for her as she was for him. Lowering herself onto him without much preparation was a so much closer, tighter sensation than she’d experienced it with him so far, but she was way too far gone out of her head to care. All she wanted – _needed_ – to feel in that careless, mindless moment was him. Her muscles tightened up around his hardness, drawing him in inch by inch, and by the time her hips were flush against his, they were both moaning and grunting uncontrolled with every panting breath.

The cool, smooth layers of his leather clothes a heavy contrast to her heated skin, she could feel the unusual warmth radiating off his skin, his flesh even more intense as he pulsated inside of her. He’d not even bothered to take his gloves off yet, a foreign, smooth sensation on her hardened nipples when he finally made it to pull down her corset enough to touch her. Her hips bucked, pressed down even harder against his, a few stuttering movements, and that was really all it took that night. Stamina wasn’t exactly a goal when you were too hot on your partner to even undress. And it was completely alright.

 

Entangled in her lover’s firm embrace, still only half dressed and continuously buzzed from both alcohol and adrenaline in her system, Elisabeth should have been asleep rather sooner than later, but for some reason, in that night, that small piece of ever-clouded sky she could see through her bedroom window kept her sight captured longer than usual. She didn’t need a psychiatrist to know where her intoxicated mind lingered and why, what she’d taken with her from this evening that would last so much longer than a little gossip from their servants or feeling slightly sore in the morning. This castle, these lands that had no place under the stars of the mortal world, wasn’t hers yet, and she had to stop waiting for that to happen.

She’d rested long enough. It was time to find her new place in the skies.

“Can you stay tomorrow?” she asked quietly, her fingertips drawing lazy, absent circles on his chest. “Will that be allowed? I could really use you around here for a while.”

 

“Then you shall have me, my queen.” It sounded like he was sobering up, a little bit at least, that was a relief. They both couldn’t afford to lose control like that, as much fun as it had been. “Something wrong, my love?”

 

“No.” Crossing her arms on his chest, she leaned up to cover his lips with hers, gently, lovingly, until she could see the last of worry and confusion leave his still clouded, widened eyes. “It’s just time to start make things right.”


	2. Mit der Zither unterm Arm

“Let me guess: They were not thrilled.”

When Death came back from his morning meeting with Uriel and the other team leaders, an expression so utterly annoyed darkened his features, it immediately reminded Elisabeth of all those times in her mortal life she had to reject his advances and flee back into the arms of her husband for a lack of better options. Telling his servants that he would take another few days off to start ease the future queen of this realm into her new reborn life apparently produced about the same level of frustration and made it hard not to chuckle at his often so overly dramatic attitude. That would not have been fair. He was doing this for her, after all.

“It’s their job and they just had a whole evening off”, he grumbled, that wholeheartedly unamused frown still low on his brows as he leaned against the empty breakfast table with his arms crossed. “They can drink, they can work. Period. What am I supposed to do with _that_?” He stared down at the steaming hot crystal mug Elisabeth held out to him wordlessly as if it was a particularly nasty insect.

“It’s called coffee and it helps with hangovers. Usually, people prefer to drink it in slow, careful sips”, she deadpanned. “But as long as it lifts your spirits, you can shower in it for all I care.”

“I don’t have a …” He stopped himself just in time when Elisabeth slowly raised an eyebrow and eyed him from head to toe, his less than fabulous, stringy hair, the half open, wrinkled robe he’d thrown over his naked body earlier and the way he kept rubbing over his right temple with two fingertips when she thought she wasn’t looking.

“Better get used to it, master Death. Being half-human comes with _all_ kinds of perks and consequences. Now, drink, get a bath and at least pretend to be looking forward to all of this, okay? I’ll meet you at the end of the hall.” That came out a little more irritated than she meant to make it sound, it was mostly her own nervousness about this day, about what she would see and learn that had her on the edge.

A quick, apologetic kiss to her cheek helped brush the last of her own crankiness and ache out from behind her forehead. “I have been waiting for showing you around here ever since I fell in love with you, my queen. How about I try to finish whatever … this is …” He still was very suspicious about the mug in his hand but at least forced himself to get a taste, followed by a surprised little smile. “And you actually eat some of your breakfast for a change instead of feeding it to my ravens. This will be a long walk, you’ll need your strength.” After that not so discreet little comment on her less than ideal eating habits, he quickly left her alone so they could both ponder about maybe the most mature conversation they had had ever since he had brought her here.

A long day was waiting ahead indeed, and it should not start with such a bad mood for either of them.

Elisabeth had expected her lover to take her into all these rooms on their floor first that she hadn’t been to so far, least because of closed doors that never seemed to be locked for her hand anyway, but because it had felt wrong to nose around chambers alone that had belonged to her lover only for so long.

But after she had forced down at least half of a sandwich and after giving Hugin a good piece of mind about ratting the person out who fed you, when she left the kitchen behind, her lover was waiting for her in the fully glassed oriel right opposite his bedroom door instead.

And he had indeed used the short break to change, though not quite in the way she had expected. The incoming orange shine of morning set the half-spread wings on his back on fire and left his pale skin, barely covered by a long, sleeveless robe that allowed him to move in this new favored form without restrictions, with a warmth he seldom allowed others to see. The windows were open, the cool late autumn breeze caressing her own bare arms as she stepped closer, mesmerized like it was the first time she saw him.

He didn’t need to ask, she’d long left her life completely in his hands. And from the moment he’d freed her from her dying mortal, weak form, there had not been a moment when her trust had been betrayed. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her face nestled in her favorite spot, right under his sharply defined chin. The last of ill feeling from before couldn’t be further away. One of her legs hooked behind his thighs, the moment his hands found the back of hers and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. A soft gasp, not only arousal but definitely not chaste, left her lips, and he laughed, grabbing her behind just tighter until her legs were crossed behind his hips.

Then they fell.

 

 

It was so much bigger than she’d imagined it, and Elisabeth knew she couldn't even comprehend half the measures of the building on this swift ride through the flawless skies over the castle. It wasn’t the linear practicality of the Hofburg that no statue and no war painting could ever lighten up, at the same time it was far from the rich pomposity she’d come to love in Schönbrunn whenever her travels had brought her home.

Their home, that they were leaving far below, built the heart of complexities of towers, citadels and plain structures that looked like no one had been there in a long while. Still there was no sign of withering, rust or decay. The meadows behind this, their regency tower grew untouched by weather and season without blooming, populated only sparely by a small variety of animals she couldn’t quite make out from so far up here. Much as she tried, her half-mortal eyes also were not able to tell where the last edge of stone and marble bled into the shores of an unrolling sea on the west. Or into the last foothills of mountain tops on the other side, more majestic, diamond hard and terrifying than the view from every Alps village she’d ever visited. These grounds were one with the area they were carved into, and exploring them might fill more than one of her eternities alone.

But now she knew that she wanted to, even though some of it scared her more than she liked to admit. That the step outside of her secure comfort had been the exact right, the necessary one. Still, she held on to her lover tightly, her knees not quite carrying her yet when he finally brought them down on the spotless black surface that was the roof of their citadel as she knew now. Elisabeth was not ready yet to give up that intimate closeness of being carried on the strength of his wings alone, his grounded earthly scent the most intense her senses could catch on, his feather-studded embrace so much hotter than his – or her – skin, keeping her warm more than even the unclouded sun right above them would.

When she opened her eyes, slowly, it was only stone and walls that she could see below them. Knowing, that wasn’t all there was, helped, but she wasn’t too unhappy when her lover guided her inside, sensing her unrest.

“Nothing here really lives, does it?” she asked quietly when he lead her along a narrow hallway, some perfectly edged, smooth stairs down into the actual attic of the building, the part she hadn’t been to so far, opposite the library. “Not even the animals. All of us, just spirits. Everything I see, it’s all in our heads.”

“Which does not make it any less real, my love. This place is a mirror of the world that we relieve off the dead. It is a museum of all that once was. It exists because of us, and it will as long as we do.” He took her face between his hands and brought his lips close to hers, until her shaking breath touched his cool skin and they both shuddered. “Does this feel real to you?”

“More than anything, my prince.” She tilted her head closer and covered the gentle curve of his lips with her own. Her tongue darting forward, she tasted coffee and adventure, and that was most possibly on of her favorite flavors. “So do I get my own personal curator then?”

“After you, my queen.” With just a careless kick of his ankle, he pushed the door to the first room open that he meant to show her this day.

And Elisabeth forgot how to breathe.

 

 

“It’s not gonna bite, you know.”

After her lover had given her all the time she needed to explore this part of the light-flooded attic on her own, he startled her in a way he hadn’t quite managed to in a long time. Appearing behind her out of thin air, after she had spent minutes just staring down at a very particular one of the hundreds of instruments occupying the vast wooden hall, he gently took her trembling hands in his, giving back circulation and energy to her strangely numb limbs. It wasn’t enough to pull her out of the deep melancholy that had befallen her like a cold in summer.

At least it was nice, not be alone with a sadness she had not felt in years, but when Death gently urged her to reach out for the smoothed bright surface of the zither, she had to resist. She did not think she could, not now, maybe never. It wasn’t even the newest or prettiest of a collection she had not been prepared to find in a place that was the very opposite of creation and art … Or at least that was what she had thought so far, mostly confining herself to the same dangerous comforts of dark walls and remote rooms that she’d spent the last decades of her life in. Not for the first time today, she realized, these buildings were so much more than the safe haven Death had promised to take her to, if she was just willing to open her eyes and finally let her soul reach out to the world again, a world that wouldn’t be able to harm her anymore.

Only her own memories could.

And right now, those were firmly tethered to a shallow box with less than two dozen strings, a little too big for the span of her own arms to play it comfortably. Made for a man, taller than she was. An instrument that certainly had not been placed right in the center of the hexagon room by chance, with daylight through a dozen windows in every wall pointed at the black pedestal it was placed upon. There were many, much older, much more expensive and exquisite looking models around, of every instrument that man had ever created, as her lover had told her, but this one right here had been left here for no other than herself.

A sudden realization dawning in her mind, she bent her knees slightly, moving closer to the characteristic half circle at the zither’s upper half and swallowed thickly when she saw the deep notch in the wood, right where it had been the last time she’d seen this thing. It was a scar of her own impatience and misbehavior. She had torn the zither out of her father’s hand in a childish attempt to keep him from yet another one of her travels, and then dropped it by accident. It had been one of the few times that Max had been close to give her the whupping she’d probably deserved, but she’d been most horrified by her own mistake herself and had cried herself to sleep that evening, so he’d probably thought she was punished enough.

The look she threw back over her shoulder at her lover must have given away not only the steadily rising pain in her soul but the silent, confused reproach she didn’t want to make loud, not when she had still so little idea about how this world was being built.

At least this time it paid off to keep her mouth under control for once. “A mirror, my queen, as I told you. Go on.” This time he did not let her pull away but softly brought her hand down to the very same taint she had just spotted that her father had never bothered to repair.

Max had said it had reminded him of her, of his favorite daughter and her unruliness and stubbornness. Now it was an anchor to her past that Elisabeth had not known she needed or wanted. When her fingertips finally touched the roughened spot, she lost balance for a moment, falling back into her lover’s arms. She smelled tobacco and cloves, felt the abrasions of an old leather saddle on the inside of her knees, her ears filled with a deep laughter she last had heard decades ago. Before their paths had parted in a way that no stiff visit, no angered conversation in any letter could ever have repaired. “Father …”

“Only a memory, Elisabeth, unless you decide different.” A kiss on her neck like the fluttering touch of a wing, of a moth or a bat maybe, brought her back to the present. “Not only the souls of the living leave a footprint in this universe. In this realm, every spirit becomes our reality, even the spirit of things. Everything you see in this room belonged to a master whose heart was attached to it, and a part of them stayed with their creations when they died. This is the hall where the dead sing for us, my queen. If you choose to, you can listen or join their song.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

And she probably still would not have been able to make a decision if Death hadn’t knelt down before the pedestal after long moments of doubt, taking her with him in the movement, and again gently lead her hand to the tightly keyed up strings. Slowly, without any pressure, ready to let go off her anytime if she really wanted it, just like he had accompanied her through her life.

This time she chose not to fight back, as heavy as her heart suddenly felt. She had come up here with him to move on in her new life, and she could not do that as long as her past was weighing her down. “I’m warning you, I never was particularly good.” She chuckled, lightly embarrassed through a first shimmer of tears, and leaned back against her partner with a soft sigh, letting the already so well known touch ground her and keep her in the life she had chosen for herself now. The right choice this time, unless the one she had made all those years ago, hardly of age, stupid and inexperienced.

And her father had always known. It was exactly what he had tried to warn her about when they had sung their little song about riding, freedom and poetry back then. She still knew all the words to it and only with the very last of them, her voice finally broke.

For a long while, Death just held her silently in his arms, the warm, dark fleece of his left wing covering her from the silent, invisible world around them while she cried on his shoulder, his soft, slender hands brushing through her loose braid, down her half-bared back. There was some pain, some mistakes that no word could ever undo. Other things, one could at least learn to live with, and these days he’d finally understood that this rather had to be her way than running from them, as often as she herself tended to forget that. “He was at peace when I came to collect him. Greeted me like an old friend, in fact. The last years with your mother apparently were very good.”

“I couldn’t do it. I know I should have been there, but the thought of standing around his grave with all these other people who never knew or understood him …” Again, her voice broke. Who was she to judge? At the end of their life, her father and she had long stopped understanding each other. Knowing that he had been happy without her made it a bit easier.

Death snorted, a sound so much more familiar than the slightly clumsy comfort before, but not a bit less uplifting. “Memory does not live in holes in the ground, little dove.”

“Yes, I know that now. I guess, I just wish he could know that I am happy now too. And that I’m sorry for not giving more time to one of the few people who deserved it.” When she finally lifted her head off his shoulders, her eyes were still sensitive and hurting, but they both were smiling now.

“As I said, dove, it is your choice alone how close the spirits of your past are to you. Close enough for today though, it would seem. Come. There is much more to see.” Death wiped the last of tears off her cheek with the back of his hand and pulled her to her feet.

She pressed his hands thankfully but stepped back, slowly enough to let him know, it was not him. After decades of solitude, a lonely soul like hers still needed the freedom to stand alone when she felt like it. “I’m fine. Just a few minutes more, okay?” But of instruments she had indeed seen enough for now, her ways instead brought her to one of the six-foot windows that lit every corner of the hall, where she could watch the empty skies and let her hurting heart be soothed by the rays of a sun that would never tan her skin again.

Other earthly pleasures her half-mortal body had not been robbed off though, and one of those her lover still was not finished gifting her with on this day. When she finally was torn out of that heavy mist of guilt and longing for a past long lost, it was by the sound of an instrument so much classier, so much more elegant and loaded with hundreds of years of history, that it should not come to her as a surprise to hear her lover of all people master it.

It was a piece Elisabeth had never heard before, light but with a deep underlying eeriness, much like a tired hawk on his evening flight. She fell in love with it instantly, drawn back to her partner like an insect attracted by light through the playful harmony elicit by her lover’s clever hands. Their sights met for a loving, wordless moment before he closed his eyes again, in one of these seldom times of unconcern he would only allow himself around her. Resting her hands on the shining black of the instrument, she felt every single of the notes vibrating through it, through him, herself, and her heart once more was healed by the ice-cold beauty of imperfection, of life within destruction, the most unlikely union of two opposites that became the best version of themselves, melting into one.

She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

When she looked down on her reflection, it was the weathered, gracious face of her father staring back at her, and his short, approving nod, that put at least one little piece of her shattered soul back where it belonged.

Before he vanished, he raised one pointed finger into the direction of her lover, warningly, who ignored him like only the master of the underworld could himself allow to.

Elisabeth pressed her fingertips to her lips and gently held them against that very spot where the blurry picture of someone she would never see again fainted into her own reflection, and for the first time in a long while, she did not turn away from it immediately.

“Thank you.” She meant both of them.

Death just nodded shortly and closed the piano lid without the smallest sound before he reached out to her. For someone whose job it was, creating them, he did not seem too comfortable around spirits himself, so she did not press the subject. Today he had done more than enough for her serenity.

“You keep on making me proud, my queen. As it always was, your strength is on its peak when you don’t know, it is in you at all.” With his arms around her waist, he suddenly lifted her up until she came to sit on the surface, and looked up on her with a strange cross between thoughtfulness and admiration. “I haven’t been playing for more than 150 years, you know. What is it that you’re doing to me?”

“You said it yourself, my prince. It’s memory that comes to life in here.” Her hands folded in his neck, she pulled him closer, bent down to kiss that confused pout off his lips. Her tongue sneaked between them, teasing his, inviting him into their favorite dance, one to remind him just like he reminded her, constantly, that change did not mean deterioration. Not the changes they made for each other.

It had meant to be a little teasing only, just some distraction before the next – hopefully lighter – part of the tour, but somehow, he suddenly stood a lot closer to her, right between her legs, that one sleeve that held her dress where it was, slid down her arm, she was resting heavily back on her hands, panting through half-opened lips, and tried to remember what they had just been talking about. “Who else comes in this room?”

The click of a lock was the only answer she got before a hungry mouth started teasing her now naked breasts, quick licks and soft bites torturing her already hard nipples, a firmly caressing hand on her thigh lifting her leg up, around his hips, just like before he’d taken her for a flight earlier, and this time she could rut against his hips and the fast growing hardness there shamelessly.

She had no intentions to ruin a perfectly good instrument anyway, so instead of trying to get out of her dress, she just grabbed her lover’s hand and brought it between the grey and black layers of her skirt, spreading her legs for him just enough to give him access to where she needed him to be. Her lips firmly pressed to his, she reached between their bodies to seek the touch of his arousal through the thin fabric of his coat, grabbing him firmly. His audible gasp made her chuckle, she gave his lower lip a sweet little bite, just enough to get his attention and sought out his heated gaze. “Show me.” Especially when they were pressed with time, because the last thing she needed was the death-angels making a list about all the rooms they had been messing around in, she wanted to know exactly what she was doing. And how to get him just as quickly and intensively to the point where he already was having her with nothing much than a few sweet caresses.

“ _Demanding_. Interesting.” He snickered at her impatient grunt and then moaned when she just grabbed him harder, his hips jerking forward. “Do that again. Just …” Reaching around her waist with his free arm, he pulled her to the edge of the surface, his lower lip caught between his teeth, his eyes large and dark when his fingers slipped inside her warmth, just gently circling while her muscles tightened up around him impatiently. “Slowly.” And slowly was exactly how he liked to drive her insane, even when they were in a hurry.

So it was what she did, echoing every of his movements with her hand, her other buried in his hair, their eyes fixed on each other’s pleasure-ridden face until his finally closed with the relief of orgasm and her own stained the expensive silk of her dress. Quite out of breath, she went in for another kiss and shook her head in amusement.

“You know, if we do this in every room, Sophie might be married to her superior until we get back.”

That prospect left her lover completely unamused, unfortunately, so at least they sobered up quickly enough to let the spirits of the arts rest for the day.

The morning was still young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song he is playing for her: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=orydSOpFhX4


	3. The first dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death helps Elisabeth remember how their daughter was conceived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to dear tod-von-mii for the chapter title inspiration.

The contrast to the last room could not be more extreme. Elisabeth was waiting in vain for her lover to open some window blinds or fire up lamps she couldn’t make out in the dark, strangely heated hall they entered next. The air was heavy on her lungs like tropical woods, but only when something passed her by so close, she could nearly feel its wing on her cheek, her other senses caught on. The unmistakable resin smell of fur, hay, some fruit. After her eyes adjusted to the strange glow of stalactites and the little light coming through tiny holes in the thick stone that would allow only small animals to pass, she could make out a dozen nests and little caves carved into walls and ceiling, littered with straw and woodwork.

“Bats, really?” She was not quite sure what to make of this.

 

It was a charming sight, when her lover stepped into the middle of the room and two bats at once tried to land on his shoulder. She was sure, he would never admit, but there was actually a small smile on his lips when he reached out his hand for one of them to land on it, brushing its small black chest with just a fingertip. However, affectionate love even was not exactly something she connected Death with in her head, unless it was for their strange, fateful relationship. Or …

 

“They’re our daughter's pets, my love, you might want to get acquaint with them.” There was a strange kind of melancholy in his eyes when he motioned her to join him.

 

The animals stayed perfectly still even as she neared, and Elisabeth knew from the many years she’d spent tending to her private little zoo how unusual that was. They seemed to know there was nothing to fear around the masters of the night. When she lifted her own hand, the smaller one promptly left Death’s shoulder, hooked its little legs around one of her fingers and hung itself in a more common pose upside down.

 

Her partner chuckled at her baffled face, but still his thoughts seemed miles away from here. “They’re creatures of the dark, just like us. They’ve always inhabited a corner of the castle or two, long before I even started to notice them. Turned out when I first brought Sophie to her new home, she spotted them a lot faster. And I learned the very unprepared way that my daughter inherited my ability to shift the moment I breathed new life into her. This was her favorite one when she did not want to talk to me. So basically, for two years straight.”

 

“Wait … what?” Even more fascinated, Elisabeth stared down at the little creature rocking itself contently on her hand like it belonged there.

 

“She hasn’t done it in decades, don’t worry. These days she prefers feeding them over hiding with them.” Death shooed away the one creature still seated on his hand and walked over to the simple pantry where hidden away from greedy mouths under huge glass domes there was a variety of fresh food waiting. “It had its perks, don’t get me wrong. She was scared to death, hurt and angry when we arrived. Even spirits that go so young reach a certain level of maturity when they’re torn from their bodies, but she still couldn’t understand why her mother and the one person she knew as her father suddenly were gone.” The well-known snort her lover acknowledged her mortal husband with usually, sounded very mild today. Death very well knew that in this regard, he was far from being flawless himself. “If she’d just refused to communicate, I could have handled that. But she didn’t sleep or eat either. For a demigod that young, that could have been dangerous. When she discovered the beauties of shapeshifting, it made the first few weeks a lot easier for both of us, though I’m pretty sure that wasn’t her intention.” At least for once, the dramatic rolling of his eyes seemed aimed at himself only.

“Baby bats are a lot easier to raise than humans. And when she finally got bored of that form, she was strong enough to leave her with the angels until she would at least start considering seeing me as anything else than her murderer.”

 

“You aren’t. You saved her where I nearly killed her, and I will never forget that.” Shaken by that unexpected confession, Elisabeth wrapped her free arm around his neck and rested her lips against his temple until his hands didn’t tremble anymore and he could finally get those berries from under the dome he’d been searching for. He left a few in her palm, after a thankful kiss to her lips, then they just stood there for a while, feeding one of the restlessly fluttering creatures after the other, and let a past dwell between them that they’d never shared.

Only the beginning of it, and maybe this day, finally, was the right one to talk about this part of the story. “After that night … you never came to me again … for that.”

 

“The risk was too big. I told you, my queen …” The last of fruit gone, he stepped into her space again, the way she’d only allowed this man to do it so comfortably all her life. His fingertips traced the star-shaped pattern of her dress, slowly, without any underlying motives this time, until his hand came to rest on her stomach, smooth and flat in this world as if she had never carried a child. “What happened between us is unprecedented, and I’m still not sure how it came to be. I couldn’t risk putting you with child again. People would have known. As much as I wanted to take you away in your head every time you had to give yourself to your husband’s unworthy paws.”

 

“You held back for me. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Her hand came to rest on his, warmed the anger and the regret into his skin the same way his embrace would always gift her with peace and quiet. “I wish I could just remember a little more. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so detached from my own daughter then.”

 

“My Elisabeth.” That slightly amused but never hurtful laughter was a sound she definitely preferred over the growling before. “You need to start taking me seriously when I tell you, I want to make your every wish come true in this realm. And this …” His lips touched her forehead, right between her brows, and even as her legs gave in under her and she fell into her dark prince’ arms fearlessly once more, she smiled. “… is something I can do.”

 

Elisabeth went to sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

_“You!” The too high, too unsteady tone in Elisabeth’s voice gave away her sudden fear when the shapes of her bedroom lost every color, the weight of her agitated husband over her own, unmoving body vanished into air, air that didn’t seem to fill her lungs anymore, her chest hardly moving, her heartbeat reduced to an inaudible slow echo. She was dreaming, somehow she must have fallen asleep in the most unlikely of situations. And the person responsible for it was standing right there in the corner with a smug grin on his face as if her sudden panic was pure entertainment, white and blonde and black silk against the blood red of her cabinet, his shadow drowning the last of her husband’s portrait at the wall that the moonlight revealed. “What are you doing? What do you want? Haven’t you embarrassed me enough at my own wedding?”_

_“Your wedding, yes, I seem to remember. You looked lovely, I must say. Only the company could have been better.”_

_His smirk faded when she sat up abruptly, pulling the blanket high over her half clothed body. Now that he sensed, she was seriously mad about that not so amicable scene in the hall of mirrors, fainting into her husband’s arm when the whole court had already laughed at her unprepared youth, her nervous clumsiness … At least he had the integrity to pretend, he hadn’t enjoyed taking her away from the boring festivities for a few minutes. “You must forgive me if I inconvenienced you, Empress. I will admit that I am not quite used to the concept of attraction just yet.”_

_“Attraction? You. Dropped me. To the floor”, she snapped, for now accepting her fate of being caught in her own dreams. “Don’t_ ever _do that again or don’t bother coming back.” An empty threat, probably. In here, in her own head, just like at her wedding a month back, she was in his world, and powerless._

_Or maybe she wasn’t and just had not realized it yet. The way he slightly shook his lowered head, his brows raised, looked as close to embarrassed as she had ever seen him. “Duly noted, little dove. You know, it is not every day I find myself in the presence of mortal for longer than a few minutes. Let me just say that you did not look like you were enjoying yourself in your husband’s arm an awful lot. Neither tonight, I might add.”_

_“That is not for you to decide.” Drawing her knees close to her body, wrapping her arms around it, Elisabeth hid her face under the cascades of her openly flowing hair, not ready to admit even to herself how right he was. Once more._

_“And I shall never use force on you. It is against my nature. Tell me, do you want to go back?” When he moved closer, it was unexpected. She still was not used to see a man, light-built and graceful clothed as he was, move with the ease of a feather, a panther-like speed her eye refused to accept. “Say the word and you will wake up. If you are so desperate for your husband’s incompetent attention, I shall not stand in your way. I doubt though that he would even notice. Enthusiastic participation has never been a crucial criteria for a Habsburg’s satisfaction.”_

_Much to her annoyance, Elisabeth felt herself blush, shame as much as embarrassment and anger, and most of all about that it wasn’t_ him _this last emotion was directed at. “I guess next you will tell me,_ you _would do a lot better.”_

_His lips curled into a disinterested, nearly bored pout, a one-sided shrug followed. “There is no need stating the obvious.” It must have shown in her indignant face how close she was to at least try and slap him, because his features softened immediately._

_Without doing as much as asking for permission, he sat down on her bed, at least on the opposite end, his position mirroring hers, only he preferred to stretch his arms along the wooden frame, elegant long fingers tracing every flower, every twine carved into it. A sight that shouldn’t hold her eyes as long as it did. “So. You haven’t changed your mind about him, I take it.”_

_“Marrying an Emperor is not something you just take back. It’s not his fault that he happens to lead this country.” How she wished, there wouldn’t be so much frustration and sadness in those treacherous words, but what use was there, trying to hide from someone who lived in her head? Even if that someone apparently only chose to see what he liked. “I will do the duty I was chosen for. I will be a good wife and Empress.”_

_“A wife to … whom exactly? This is only the fifth time you have seen him since your wedding if I recall right. And he seems to prefer your company mostly at night.” He was merciless, even if the rage in his narrowing, strangely beautiful eyes was not directed at her. “And Empress? Give me a break, dove. What do you think you will rule? An army of servants and maidens? Who will refuse your wishes if they’re not your mother in law’s, I might add.”_

_“Why are you doing this?” Only now that he confronted her with her own regret and despair, her voice finally broke. “If you’ve only come to hurt me, save your time. You’re telling me nothing I don’t know.”_

_The mattress hardly giving in with his non-existent weight, he was suddenly beside her, cool fingertips gently lifting her chin, a look full of unexpected compassion and deepest longing seeking her tear-stained one. “I have come because I can’t bear to feel your fear and repulsion anymore, every time your husband remembers that you actually exist and serve some kind of purpose in his court. Come.” The last word was but a soft whisper as she already gave in, her resistant position faltering as she fled into the arms of her dark prince, sobbing quietly._

_She had expected his embrace to be solid, bruising to the touch like a fall off a trapeze, but her body melted against his as if they were one. She could hide her face against the elegant pale neck of a man not much taller than her and enjoy a cold but soothing touch cupping her back, of someone who literally had all the time in the world and gave it to her while she cried for her lost youth. And for a life ahead of her that promised nothing but pain and boredom._

_“It doesn’t have to be like this, you know.” When she finally lay on her pillow, exhausted but with no tears left, and stared up at the man who promised her freedom and eternity, for a moment she could not help but wonder what it would feel like if she would actually take his gracious offer. “One kiss, little dove, and you’ll be free of this world you never fit into. No one shall ever hurt you again …” Before she knew, his lips were dangerously close to his, his breath – so_ cold _– caressing her skin, blue-green eyes fixed on hers, seeking but not expecting and certainly not demanding permission. It was her choice, always had been._

_And one thing she had always been was being too stubborn for her own good. A second time, just before it was too late or her growing displeasure over her own choices could draw her the wrong way, Elisabeth turned her head away from her salvation. “People will only hurt me when I let them. I have to learn how not to.”_

_“You might have to start with your own husband then.” The disappointment was deep but not new, and he didn’t try again, just sat up slowly, still caught in his own emotion for her she now knew was just as real as Franz Joseph’s. The touch of his hand cooled away the last of tears on her cheeks before he finally pulled away._

_Elisabeth’s hand tight around his stopped him before she knew why. “Why are you here? You knew, I’m not ready to leave, you’ve known it for a while.”_

_“I told you.” When his slightly opened, darkly painted lips neared her face again, they were not aiming for hers any longer. Grazing her cheek, they stopped right by her ear, as if not even the spirits whoever inhabited this unreal, eerie dream world, would be allowed to hear. Much as she tried to, she could not fool herself that it was fear sending shivers all the way down her spine. “I can’t_ stand _to see you scared anymore. I want to give you what your husband obviously cannot. Will you let me, Elisabeth?”_

_“What is it that you think you do so much better?” But maybe she had already figured that out, and maybe she had just not yet sent him away because despite of what she thought and said … It had indeed been her calling him._

_“For starters, be interested in you instead of just loving a vague idea of having you by his side.” And the way his eyes now slowly wandered down her body as if he could see her through blanket and gown while her own partner usually did not even bother with getting her out of all her clothes, indeed confirmed that heat on her skin certainly did not rise from the oven burning. Could it be that different with someone who didn’t only come to pleasure himself and try to produce an heir for his legacy?_

_You couldn’t be unfaithful to your husband with someone who didn’t even exist, right?_

_A frown of disappointment settled between Death’s dark brows when Elisabeth moved away from under him, soon replaced by relief and curiosity when she gave up the thin protection of her blanket. Only when she started to gather the hem of her nightgown up her legs because that was what she was used to do at this point, he gently grabbed her wrists to stop her. “I think we’ve well established at this point that I’m not your husband. Talk to me, little dove.”_

_Elisabeth swallowed thickly. Actually saying it was a completely different deal than just laying back and waiting for it, and of course, that was exactly what he was going at. If she wanted this, with him, then it really needed to be her free and uncompromised decision, maybe one for the first time in her life. “Yes.” When he still held her, she cleared her throat and forced herself to look into his eyes. “I want you to show me.”_

_Instead of letting go off her, he softly pushed her now empty hands up, to the pillow, signaling her to leave them there. “Then let me, Empress.”_

_She couldn’t figure out what he meant until his lips were back at that spot right under her ear, then at that sensitive one between neck and shoulder where she still thought to feel the weight of her husband’s heavy necklace. The smallest, softest bite there made her first startle, then shiver softly, shifting restlessly on the bed, unsure what to do with herself and with this strange warmth building in her veins._

_“Enjoy”, his bright, husky voice murmured as if he had heard her thought, and only now, she realized that his hand had moved from her waist to her front, slowly working its way up the laces of her gown, leaving one of them after the other open on its way. Then his lips were there too, between the parted halves, while he pulled the sleeves down from her arms, breathing in her scent, kissing every newly revealed inch of flesh._

_Overwhelmed with an attention she hadn’t felt before, she took a deep, shaking breath and whimpered in confusion and slowly building arousal when she ended up pressing right against this clever, hungry mouth encasing one of her hardening buds, wet warmth a welcome surprise after the coldness of his skin. Something clenched in her lower body, in a way she had not felt herself react before. Seeking balance, something to hold on to, she buried her trembling hands in her lover’s long golden hair and shifted her hips again, restlessly, gasping when she felt her gown sticking to a kind of wetness between her legs that was just as new to her. “Is this supposed to feel this way?”_

_She expected him to laugh at the rather stupid question, instead he only lifted his head to look at her, her heated face cradled gently in his hand. “Does it feel good?”_

_Elisabeth, not used to patience, to breaks in this usual rather dull and uncomfortable activity, needed a moment to catch her breath before she could nod against his palm and shyly pressed her lips against it. She wondered what it would feel like, touching him like he touched her. Maybe right there, between his legs, where she could feel a not too unfamiliar hardness pressing against her hips ... But she didn’t think she could bring herself to try and find out just yet. She could hardly handle all these new sensations that left her body hot and trembling as it was. “More?”_

_“As much as you want, dove.” As if he’d sensed that his arousal left her nervous, he got up on his knees, withdrawing from her just enough to pull her gown down over hips. When she moved to remove it completely, this time he let her and lost the fleeting, thin velvet that was his own coat, leaving his chest bare, defined as sharply as his features, pale and glistening in the faint moonlight. When he caught her staring, a shadow of that smug grin she knew all too well returned. Kneeling back over her, he gave her the time she needed to recollect herself, a gentle caress exploring her bare legs, her hips, her sides, the only connection she could hold on to, grounding her body with his so much cooler temperature that could still elicit more heat inside of her than she had ever felt in her life._

_And maybe for the first time, she actually_ wanted _more instead of just feeling obliged to agree to it. So next time she felt his brazenly steady fingers brush by her middle while he was gently stroking her chest, her stomach, she caught his hand and brought it to that place where her desire kept on building steadily. It could have been his gasp or her own when she felt his fingertips brush through her wetness, caressing instead of mindlessly groping, opening her up instead of invading her immediately. When she grabbed his wrist, it was to steady herself, not to stop him. Her other hand buried in his hair once more, for a moment she wasn’t sure if she wasn’t pulling him in for that kiss that would make all of this last forever anyway._

_However, she’d told him clearly enough before, and in this new, compelling situation he was the one who saw more clearly through her clouded mind than her arousal would let her, turning his head aside before she could even come close. Instead, his lips assaulted her neck once more, sucking, nibbling gently until she began to writhe and moan, her hips pushing down against two gentle fingers she had hardly felt slipping inside of her, too caught up in too many impressions to take in – or fear – a single one. There was nothing to fear, only steadily rising pleasure from more playful nibbles on her heated breasts, a quiet, slow rhythm that only answered the one of her hips and a grounding, strong arm around her waist that stopped her from feeling like she would float off into this dream forever._

_It wasn’t enough anymore, and this was definitely not a thought she had expected in a night like this. Before she knew, she wasn’t just lightly caressing her lover’s arm anymore, encouraging him to continue whatever he was doing there that left her helplessly wriggling on the mattress, but her suddenly ice-cold fingertips were busy making out any kind of fastenings on those dark silk trousers still shielding him from her sight. Her unskilled groping soon turned into something completely different, without any urging or pleading from someone who hardly cared about learning to touch her in return this time, and the size of what she felt made her curious. “Please …”_

_At least this time, there weren’t any more words necessary. His pants vanished as quickly as his coat, leaving him bare and ready for her, his ever-white skin faintly shining with salt of arousal, a yearning in his eyes that she could not remember to have seen before, not like this. He came to take what she offered him without another word, and it was only now that she saw his unsettling self-control waver for the first time. It was a sound of pure need and relief at the same time that vibrated through his chest when he entered her, his otherworldly beautiful face a grimace of hardly held back pleasure, his arms around her waist just holding her a bit too tight._

_It was a discomfort she didn’t mind, not in that moment when she felt like losing herself completely in a kind of lust her husband had never bothered to give her. With her face tightly buried against his neck again, marking his skin with her teeth while his thrusts drew deep moans from her lips, she gave himself over to him, let herself be carried away into a comfortable nothingness in her head like only Death could do, and this night he’d found a new way to show her how. The tension and burning in her lower body became more unbearable by the second, soon she writhed under him, answering the quick, erratic movements of his hips with her own, but it didn’t feel like it was enough._

_Only when her lover brought his hand between their tightly entwined bodies and touched her somewhere near that place where he had made her his this night, her thoughts were completely drowned out for several long seconds. Her hips stuttered, waves of heat rolling through her veins, her crotch, her head, a ride she never wanted to end. She thought she heard herself scream out, but it might as well have been the noise he had made against her ear. She could feel him spend himself inside of her, and for a moment, the most hilarious thought crossed her mind, the question what her husband would say if she could present him a child, only it wouldn’t be his, at all. The notion vanished as quickly as it had come, her body going limp against his._

_A sudden tiredness washed over her, along with an emptiness, she had never felt before – certainly not when her husband had withdrawn from her after his release – and it was hard to keep her eyes open._

_Tender kisses against her closed lids let her know she did not need to, and this was the last offer tonight she’d take from this man. The biggest he would come to make her again, and again she would decline until life would finally be fed up with her. But maybe she would be looking forward to this time just a little more than before after tonight._

_A light, lingering touch against her bare stomach was the last she felt of her godly lover this night before sleep, real, deep sleep in the world of the living, washed over her._

 

 

 

 

 

“You knew already?” It usually took Elisabeth longer to come back from these rides into the past that Death used to show her in her own head. This time she felt too troubled, too confused and strangely satisfied at the same time. It was good to know that it had meant something to him, even back then. It just did not add up with what he had told her when he had welcomed her into this world a few weeks ago, about looking at little Sophie for the first time and being hit with a realization that the unthinkable had happened.

 

“Only a vague feeling. Believe me, I really couldn’t have dreamed, it was mine until she was born.”

At some point in the last minutes, Death had carried her out of the too hot, busy surroundings of the tropical floor to a simple, soft couch in the halls. The way he was nestled back against the many night blue pillows with her half on top of him looked like he was for once the one who could use a few hours of rest. This trip through his home was shaping up to be a lot more emotional for both of them than they had expected.

“I don’t regret. It is not what I was made to do. But Sophie was the first variable in my life I couldn’t control. I wish I could have done better by her, that’s all.”

 

Elisabeth propped herself up on his arms, resting on his chest, and his chin firmly in his hand until tortured, doubtful eyes finally looked in her direction. “I’ve not once in my life been so proud of any of my children the way I feel for Sophie now, my prince. For someone who did not know a thing about what it is to be human, you did a pretty decent job. The kid adores you.” Now it was her who could not hide nagging sadness. If there was one of them who had done horribly wrong by this child, it had been her.

 

That was something they had talked about enough, though, so he didn’t try to tend to that wound again that was still too big to be touched, only kissed her forehead silently and urged her to get up then.

Their journey to the past was far from over.


End file.
